


Only If for a Night

by ReyloTrashCompactor (NextToSomething), SouthSideStory



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, First Time, Post-Canon, Post-TLJ
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 11:01:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16135874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NextToSomething/pseuds/ReyloTrashCompactor, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SouthSideStory/pseuds/SouthSideStory
Summary: The night the war ends is a time for victories and change. Maybe, if Rey is lucky, she can win where Ben Solo is concerned. There’s something between them, more than friendship or battle-forged camaraderie, a need that she’s felt threaded along their bond, and she’s tired of ignoring it.





	Only If for a Night

**Author's Note:**

> For the theme “heavenly bodies.” The title comes from the Florence + the Machine song of the same name. We hope you enjoy this post-canon oneshot full of reylo love and autumn feels.

.

.

Autumn had fallen on Nellidia in a flash. A week ago, the world had been more green than not, and now the trees were dressed in red, purple, and gold. The air smelled like smoke and ash, but there was a sweetness to it, fire borne from celebration rather than destruction. Rey breathed it in, then took a sip of her honeyed wine. It tasted of spices too luxurious for her to recognize, warm and heady, a perfect counter to the cool night air.

The Resistance base was hidden among the woods, but there wasn’t much hiding going on tonight. There was no need for it anymore; the war was over. The news had broken three hours ago. The First Order remnants finally surrendered—not that they had much choice after the battle over Seneca Major—and now the galaxy was free. Disordered, beaten, and broken still, but those were problems for tomorrow. Tonight was for living, not worrying, and Nellidia might be the most perfect place among the stars.

Even Ben was smiling. Not widely, of course, but there was the smallest, satisfied curve to the corner of his full mouth. It was the happiest Rey had ever seen him, and it warmed her more than the wine.

She sat beside him on the ground, her legs stretched out, the damp leaves cool against her bare feet.

He made a soft, low noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, then asked, “Where are your shoes?”

Rey shrugged. “Dunno.”

He laughed more readily this time, then set about unlacing his boots. They were dirty and well-worn, so different from the immaculate black he used to wear. You could see bloodstains on the soft grey material.

He took off his boots, and socks that were ratty and didn't match, then wiggled his toes. His feet were like the rest of him: large, pale, and somehow pretty. The man had pretty feet and it was as ridiculous as it was true.

Rey took another long drink of her wine.

Ben had a cup full of some cheap whiskey that Finn had been sharing earlier. Rey had tried just enough of it to know that she didn’t want more.

“It’s really over,” she said. “Can you believe that?”

Ben stared into his cup, his little smile nearly gone. “No.”

Rey supposed it would be harder for him to accept. He’d been fighting for much longer than she had, after all.

She leaned against him, her head on his shoulder. It was an intimacy she hadn’t dared before, but this was a time for victories and change. Maybe, if she was lucky, she could win where Ben Solo was concerned. There was something between them, more than friendship or battle-forged camaraderie, a need that she’d felt threaded along their bond, and she was tired of ignoring it.

Ben pressed his cheek to the top of her head. Then he moved and laid a gentle kiss to her hairline.

Sweet. Simple. Like this wasn't the first time he'd kissed her.

“You smell like grease,” he said.

“Like grease?” Rey squawked.

“It's a nice smell. Makes me think of my childhood, constantly repairing the Falcon.” He kissed her forehead again, breathing deep. “Motor oil and wine and dry leaves. Like—like sweat and woodsmoke and—”

He kissed her hair and Rey thought she might go crazy. “You smell like the girl I carried through the woods.”

Ben was being so sweet that she didn’t want to ruin it, but—

“You’ve never carried me,” Rey said. “I’d remember that.”

His breath was warm against her cheek when he said, “It was on Takodana. I carried you from the forest to my ship. I held you all the way to Starkiller.”

Rey closed her eyes. Had he known then, what would happen between them? She hoped not. Surely, if he’d had any idea of what they’d come to mean to each other, he wouldn’t have fought her, stolen her, hurt her.

But that didn’t matter. It was all over now, and the time had come for her to let it go.

He sighed a hot breath through the roots of her hair. It was her name.

“Rey.” His fingers barely brushed her collarbone. “Walk with me?”

He stroked his thumb across her skin, and it felt electric, his touch burning and full of energy, almost like the Force itself was sparking between them. It wasn’t, though. This was something simpler, baser, and Rey wanted to follow it.

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s go.”

.

.

Rey's hand fit so perfectly in Ben's own. Her fingers were long and knobby, threading solidly in the spaces between his. Her hand was cool and dry; it felt good against his clammy palm.

She was always soothing him, whether she knew it or not.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he said.

Rey laughed softly. “It's dark, Ben. You can't see me.”

He squeezed her hand, looking down at her. Her face was shadowed, but it didn't matter. “I can see you.”

The night grew deeper the further they wandered from the bonfires, but dappled moonlight shone down on them, sneaking through the dying leaves. Ben felt caught between spaces here, but in a way that freed instead of trapped. The galaxy was on the edge of peace, and he and Rey were on the verge of something beautiful in the liminal quiet of this new world.

They walked without direction, and why not? No one was expecting them, and they had no responsibilities to attend to.

“Here,” Rey said, when they came to a small grove. “I like this spot.”

They stood among thick grass and fallen leaves, close enough that he could see the flickering starlight in her eyes.

He shouldn’t be doing this. Rey deserved better than he was ever likely to give, and he’d told himself a thousand times that he would do this one thing right. He’d ruined so much else, and he couldn’t hurt Rey too, not again.

But he wasn’t going to think about that tonight. Just once, he’d let himself indulge in this timid little love that they’d made together. He could worry about the rest tomorrow.

There was a pale knowing between them, so when Rey turned to him, there was nothing he could do but bring his lips to hers. His hard girl was so soft here. Her lips tasted like the golden wine, honey and spice. He raised his hands, his fingers whispering over her jaw. He was as careful as he'd ever been about anything, kissing Rey.

It was tender, given and taken with bruising gentleness, and Ben thought he could do this forever, just stand here in this hushed grove with his lips on Rey’s. She didn’t seem to know what she was doing, no more than he did, but he didn’t mind. They could learn this together.

His hands moved to cup her head and she relaxed into the touch, open for him. Hot and sweet. He hadn't realized that her taste had been muted on her lips, and it became richer as he brushed his tongue along hers. She made a noise, tremulous and feeble, and Ben was sure she'd never been this vulnerable with him.

He broke away, just so he could see her face, unguarded for the first time. Beautiful enough to ache in his chest.

When he kissed her again, it was with more strength, more hunger. He'd dreamed of having Rey in his arms, and he'd chase this bliss until she was sick of him.

She was the one who started to pull at clothes, first hers, then his, her hands fumbling, eager.

Rey turned around, pulled her braid over her shoulder, and said, “Help me. Please.”

Ben tugged at the zipper on the back of her dress. He’d never seen her in a dress before, and he was surprised she even owned one. It was pretty, long and flowing, the colors of cream and sand, and it seemed a shame to take it off of her. He would, though.

Rey pushed the sleeves down her arms, and then the dress fell to the ground, puddled around her feet. Her back was long, narrow, and bare.

She turned around, arms crossed over her chest. “You too,” she said. “Don’t make me stand here like this, the only one naked.”

Ben shrugged out of his jacket, pulled his shirt over his head, and unbuckled his belt. He nodded toward her underwear and said, “ _Mostly_ naked, you mean. Fix that.”

Rey shivered, then did as she was told.

She was delicate and slender in the moonlight, and there was something primal about pressing his body to hers in these woods. They could have stayed like this, embracing for a hundred years, still and straight like the tree trunks around them. Rey kissed his neck as he unbraided her hair, a fleeting warmth that made him hold her tighter.

Ben laid her out on the dark canvas of leaves and moss, if only because he wanted to. Her skin, fair now that she’d long been rid of Jakku, in sharp contrast to the night around them. Her hair bleeding into the nature beneath her. A goddess, strong and beautiful.

His, for a moment.

He bent and kissed her between her breasts, and he felt her heart racing under his lips. His fingers dipped between her thighs, finding her hot and wet. She made a soft, needy sound, and he groaned as he dragged his mouth to her left breast. Her cry was broken when he laved the flat of his tongue over her, hard and consuming, as he tentatively explored her with his fingers.

Her breasts were small, pert and perfect. He thought he might be able to take her wholly into his mouth, so he did.

“Ben!” Rey gasped, and stars, it was the most beautiful his name had ever been.

He stroked over a part of her that made her moan, then moved farther down, touching her entrance.

“You’re so small,” he said. He’d never be able to do this without hurting her.

She giggled, breathless and happy. “You’re just big. Don’t stop.”

He didn’t, slipping his finger into her damp heat. It was enough to make him want to spill himself over the leaves. He didn’t know what to do, but he wanted to do it anyway.

Rey writhed under him, straining for more, so he took his hand from her. She pulled his hair in protest. “I said _don’t stop._ ”

He moved to kiss her lips. “I’m not,” he answered, insinuating himself between her thighs, stroking the head of his cock through her folds.

Rey whimpered as he pushed inside her—slowly, taking all the care he could. She was wet but tight, unused to him. It felt so good that he had to stop and take deep breaths, or this would be over too soon.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She nodded, though her voice came out strained as she said, “I feel so full. It—it hurts a little, but I can take it.”

Ben rocked into her again gently, calling upon a patience that was killing him.

“I don’t want you to just _take it_ ,” he whispered. “I want you to love it.”

“I do.” She grasped his shoulders and wrapped her long legs around him. “I do love it.”

_I love **you**_ , he thought, but he didn’t voice this for fear of ruining a perfect moment.

Ben moved slowly, carefully. He listened to the small sounds Rey was making, feeling for when her body began to relax more into this intimacy. She felt like heaven, like the sweet torture of hell, his everything.

She gasped when he ground his hips down into her, her blunt nails digging into his skin.

“L-like that,” she said. “Keep—like that.”

He braced himself on one elbow and cradled her head against him as he did exactly as she’d asked. Her noises changed, her body moving against his, sweet nonsense words babbling from her. Ben was holding his breath to keep from ending this too early. Almost, she was almost—

Rey cried out, biting his neck as her body clamped around him. He followed her a thrust later, his breath rushing from him in a heaving gust. He kept moving, pressing into her, chasing this to the very end—it felt good, she felt good, so good, so good.

It was a long moment before she relaxed in his arms, her breaths shaky and quavering.

Then she was kissing him, sloppy and unrefined, like she didn’t have the wherewithal for finesse. Ben tasted her, deep and thorough, taking her all over again.

_I love you,_ he thought, half hoping she would hear it, feel it, so he wouldn’t have to keep this truth to himself any longer.

_I love you, I love you, I love you._

.

.

It was growing cold, but Rey didn’t care. Ben was warm beside her, pressed close, holding her hand in the aftermath.

Lantern-bugs blinked on and off in the gloom, green-gold embers floating around them, and everything smelled wet, of sex and sweat and the promise of rain in the air.

“We should probably go inside,” Rey said, her voice low, secretive. It felt like a time for whispers, a moment so fragile that anything could break it.

“Yeah,” Ben said. “In a minute.”

They spent longer than they should just lying among fallen leaves, holding hands, and the sky punished them for it. Rain fell through the canopy of branches overhead, first scattered drops, then—as they scrambled into their clothes—a proper shower.

Ben took her hand and led her through the woods, cursing the weather. Rey could only laugh. She liked rain, even when it was soaking through her dress, no doubt muddying the hem.

They drew nosy looks from their comrades back at the party, and Rey could imagine why. Her hair must be a mess, unbound and ruffled, her dress wrinkled from spending so long on the ground. Ben had a livid love bite on his throat, and he’d put his shirt on backwards. They looked thoroughly fucked.

The rain picked up, driving the party inside, which meant that everyone got a good look at them as they hurried down the hall to the turbolift. Once the doors closed behind them, allowing some privacy, Ben pushed her against the wall and kissed her. It felt right, perfect, like they were complementary pieces made to fit together.

“Everybody saw us,” Rey said, once they parted. “I’m sure they’ll have plenty to talk about tomorrow.”

Ben stood straight, and a muscle twitched under his left eye. He was nervous, then.

“Are you ashamed of what we did?” he asked.

“No, of course not.”

“I’m not blaming you,” Ben said. “It would be fair for you to feel that way, after everything I’ve done.”

Rey looked down, staring at her grass-stained feet. She really should have bothered to find her shoes.

She’d wanted Ben, and now that she’d had him, she only needed him more. Rey didn’t feel shame over that, but there was something niggling at the back of her mind. The memory of Kylo Ren—murderous snake, creature in a mask—that she couldn’t quite forget.

The lift doors opened, saving her from having to answer.

Rey’s room was down the hall, locked by a simple keypad (the security at this base had never been impressive), and Ben entered it quickly, then ushered her inside.

They stripped out of their wet things and laid them over her desk and chair to dry. Rey grabbed his hand and pulled him to her cot. She got him on his back under the covers and climbed on top of him, straddling his waist. Part of her wanted to go again, even though she was sore, but she didn’t want to shatter this delicate closeness they’d been building for hours, months, years.

“It’s really over,” Rey said. “No more fighting, or missions, or battles. We’re done.”

Ben sat up, kissed her forehead, and wrapped his arms around her. He kept his embrace light, but she knew exactly how strong he was, how much he was holding back. She’d fought both alongside him and against him enough to understand that much.

“What are you going to do?” Ben asked. “Now that you’re free to choose.”

Rey locked her legs around him and pushed his wet hair away from his face. She liked his ears, prominent and imperfect, just as they were.

“Shaya wants to take the new Jedi to Ahch-To,” she said. “Maybe I’ll go with her, help her teach the acolytes.”

Ben chewed his lip, looking away from her.

“You’d be better at it than her,” he said. “You never fell to the dark.”

Rey sighed. Shaya—once Zela Ren—had followed Ben to the Resistance, and she’d changed every bit as much as he had. He didn’t quite believe in her dedication to the light, no more than he trusted it in himself, and Rey was sick of it.

“She’ll do fine, and—” She grabbed his chin and made him face her. “And you would too, if you came with us.”

He frowned, and she felt a soft surge of emotions through their bond, his feelings exposed and raw under her touch. Shame, sorrow, regret.

“I don’t have the right to rebuild what I tore down.”

Rey put her hand over his heart, savoring the heavy beat of it under her palm. He was alive and here and _hers_.

“Well, I think that’s the best thing you could do,” she said. “You can’t fix it, but you can help create something new. You know?”

“Maybe,” Ben murmured.

Rey hugged him, smiling, too excited not to spill every thought running through her head.

“We could teach together,” she said. “Train a whole new generation of Jedi, like Luke wanted. There’s so much there to see, to learn. And—and maybe we could share a hut?”

Ben didn’t answer, not with words, but his kiss was promise enough.

.

.


End file.
